


could it be that it's the season of the shark?

by janie_tangerine



Series: jbweek 2018 [5]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crack Treated Seriously, F/M, Fluff and Crack, Friends to Lovers, I'm Sorry, JBWeek2018, Jaime/Brienne Appreciation Week, Minor Tyrion Lannister/Sansa Stark, Sharks, The Author Regrets Everything, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Tywin Lannister's A+ Parenting, lannisters are tacky af when they want to, or: tywin has a pet shark and THINGS HAPPEN, this is ridiculous i'm sorry, two characters barely even appear but Y'ALL KNOW WHY I TAGGED THEM
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-05
Updated: 2018-10-05
Packaged: 2019-07-25 18:53:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16203590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/janie_tangerine/pseuds/janie_tangerine
Summary: “Wow,” Brienne says, “that’s red. And there’s a shark in there?”“Yes,” he answers. “It’s my father’s, well, technically it was his wedding present for my mother, and she’s been here for years.”“Holy shit,” she whispers, and he’s never heard her swear before. “Okay, two things. First, I’m not buying it until I see it. Second, no offense, but you rich people are weird.”“Can’t disagree,” he says, raising his hands in surrender. He knows it’s weird. Hell, he knows they’re weird, and not just because of the shark. “But wait, did you just say you want to see her?”“Lannister, I can’t even believe I’m having this conversation, but if you really have a shark in here of course I want to see it.”





	could it be that it's the season of the shark?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TotemundTabu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TotemundTabu/gifts).



> I have absolutely no excuse for this complete fucking ridiculousness, but if you wanna know what the fuck is wrong with me: the lovely person I'm dedicating this to, aka tumblr user robb-greyjoy (BECAUSE HE SHOULD BE DRAGGED INTO THIS MADNESS WITH ME), at some point sends me this tumblr post which compared the posters for jaws and the meg (that ridic. shark movie that came out this year), except that since I'm ignorant as hell about sharks I had no idea that the *meg* was a diminutive for the breed of shark we were discussing, so I go like 'wait is this about a shark named Meg' and don't ask me how we went from there to 'TYWIN WOULD TOTALLY OWN A SHARK NAMED *MEG*' to this entire thing, but it happened. I'm sorry.
> 
> Anyway: I'm using it for day five, _father_ , even if tbh this one and the one for _mother_ I'm about to post could have worked for both but WHATEVER. HAVE SOME SHARK CRACK. IDEK WHAT THE HELL THIS IS I'M SORRY AGAIN.
> 
> As usual: I own except for the fucking original shark character(s), they're GRRM's and the title is from Yo La Tengo.
> 
> Also, sorry but the aforementioned robb-greyjoy made the Best Edit For This Ever so you have to see it:
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> [[OP](http://robb-greyjoy.tumblr.com/post/177091140221/janiedean-randomingoftherandomness), if you dare]

Jaime _probably_ should have realized that telling people that your father owns a _shark_ is most likely not the best way to make friends or to get people to take you seriously after the third time someone in his class laughed in his face and said he was definitely bullshitting.

It’s probably the reason why Cersei _does_ make friends and he really doesn’t — she accurately avoids mentioning the proverbial elephant in the room, though in their case it’s more of a _pool_ than a room.

Then again, of course Cersei wouldn’t discuss Meg with anyone else, not when they have a pretty bad relationship.

Well, it’s kind of a long story.

In order: Meg’s been around since he can remember. Meg is also his father’s great white shark — or better, it was his father’s wedding present to his mother before she died, and now it’s his by proxy —, she’s lived in a special _extremely_ large indoor pool in the family’s property since forever and Jaime is pretty sure that there’s an entire room full of forms and bureaucracy-related stuff his father had to go through in order to keep her legally. Still, either by that or by bribing or both, he managed it, and that’s how he owns her in the first place.

Jaime is _pretty_ sure that she’s named Meg off some _Little Women_ character — and that his mother picked it, so no one even thought about changing it. He thinks that book is lame as hell, but then again it was his mother’s favorite and he’s couldn’t imagine her having any other name anyway at this point. She’s always lived in that pool and according to Mr. Tully, a scientist who works at the **nearest** aquarium but comes to check on her regularly because his father _will_ spend money on making sure she’s cared of, she’s in excellent health.

Also, his father probably loves that shark more than he cares about his own kids, to be honest, _but_ thing is — he can’t fault him too much for it because, well, as scary and large and menacing as she _looks_ … Jaime kind of _really_ loves her.

See, Tyrion doesn’t even want to go near the pool, as much as Jaime tried to convince him of the contrary, but he’s one hundred percent sure that Meg would eat him alive without even thinking about it and no amount of Jaime explaining him that she’s taken food from _him_ without a problem will change his mind. Then again, it’s reasonable, so Jaime hasn’t ever pushed in _that_ sense.

Cersei, on the other side, used to be _very_ bent on making friends with their resident great white shark, except that Meg’s never really taken to her — she’s always puffing up in a way that means bad news whenever Cersei’s near, the one time she tried to feed her she did look like she’d have happily chewed her hand off, and at some point Cersei decided that she was an ungrateful stupid fish and she had better things to do than waste time befriending her or whatever, so she never drops by the pool anymore.

Jaime, though —

Meg _does_ like him, insofar as sharks can like people, he thinks. She’ll accept fresh fish from him, if she’s swimming at the side of the pool she’ll let him touch her, and he _likes_ being indoor even if the pool is way _too_ much (there was no need for the gold ceiling, seriously) — it’s quiet, no one’s around except for people who come here to feed the shark and the immediately leave, and he’s been known to bring his homework there when he couldn’t stand being inside the house anymore. He also might tell _her_ about his day and the likes since his father won’t hear it most times and Cersei won’t listen to him even if he knows she pretends to, and sometimes he feels like Meg _is_ listening to him when she stops at the side of the pool, looking at him for a while and then disappearing back below.

And — well, okay, of course Meg likes his father, too, she’s known him since she was born, but _still_ , being the one person other than him that she genuinely likes _kind of_ makes him feel special in the good kind of way. Who wouldn’t, when a damned great white shark _likes_ you?

And _that_ is the one reason he _does_ tell people about Meg when he’s asked what he does in his spare time — it’s not like he’s lying if he says he spends half of his free time there, and how is he going to be friends with anyone if they don’t know what he does for _that_ amount of time?

That said: it hasn’t worked until now.

At thirteen, Cersei does have her not so little circle of friends who hang around the house half of the time and never near the pool or Tyrion’s room, because of course she doesn’t tell them either of them exists. Meanwhile _he_ never got as far as inviting anyone over. He has… well, his brother and the shark, he supposes. Could be worse, but then again he already hates small talk and discussing things he doesn’t like with what classmates he talks to, so if that’s how it has to be, so be it.

It’s not like he _minds,_ he thinks as he sits at the table where he always ends up doing his homework inside the pool, looking at the white fin showing up from the water.

Still —

“It’d be nice to hang out with someone else sometimes, you know?” He asks out loud one day, knowing the shark won’t reply, but she’s _there_ , so it’s got to count for something. “Like, I’m not even saying fifteen people at once, Cersei can have it, but sometimes having _someone_ around I’m not related to that I get along with would be cool, I guess.”

Meg’s head rises up from the water, her black eyes looking straight at him before she dives back down. Shit, she’s _gorgeous_ , Jaime thinks, in between how large and _majestic_ and sleek she is.

He sighs and goes back to his homework. He hates math, but if one day he wants to be a marine biologist, he’s going to have to get over it now, won’t he?

——

He doesn’t think things will change the moment he gets a history project partner for some research that his history teacher and the one from another section agreed on, which implied getting paired up in between different classes from the same level.

But it _does_.

The concept works like this: everyone is getting paired up by sorting, then they have to randomly pick a topic from a bunch of notes in a box and do a report on it within two weeks.

Jaime gets paired up with this girl who introduces herself as Brienne Tarth and resolutely _doesn’t_ look at him in the eyes even if they’re about the one pretty thing about her face. They’re large and blue with long eyelashes, and really, _really_ pretty. For the rest — well, her straw blonde hair keeps on falling off its ponytail, she’s as tall as he is with large shoulders and a flat chest hidden behind a Blind Guardian t-shirt _definitely_ cut for men, and she looks _hella_ awkward as they introduce, but after they talk for a couple minutes she decides that maybe he’s not the possible worst option to be paired with and stops answering in monosyllables. She tells him to pick, whatever is fine for her. He does and ends up with a note reading _chivalry through the middle ages,_ which is perfect for him because he’s been into Arthurian mythology since forever (a passion his sister never shared, but his brother does, good thing that), and then he notices that Brienne smiles ever so slightly.

“What,” he asks, “are you happy with my choices?”

“You picked at _random_ ,” she says, “but — yeah. Uh, my favorite book is _The Once and Future King_ , so — that’s up my alley.”

He _stares_ at her, thinking, _maybe this could be the right time?_ “What if I told you,” he asks, “that it’s mine, as well?”

She tentatively smiles back, looking like she wasn’t expecting _that_ out of everything. “Then I already had better luck than I thought I’d get when they explained how this was going to go.”

He doesn’t ask why she sounds that pessimistic and tells her that if she wants to come over to the mansion this afternoon to get started on it, he thinks he _does_ have a lot of material they could start working on.

She looks surprised as she accepts.

He needs to look into this, but — she did accept, right?

And she looks interesting.

Maybe he’ll just keep his mouth shut about the shark.

——

She comes over for one week and they actually _finish_ the entire thing with plenty of time to spare — she’s not the kind of person who only thinks about her grades, but she doesn’t waste _too much_ time, she actually does her share of the job evenly shared with his, she’s actually fun to be around after she starts talking to you instead of answering in single words (but she stops after the second day) and by the time they’re done he can’t help thinking that she’s _cool_. Other than being into the same books he is, of course, she also is on both hockey and football teams (which he never bothered signing up for even if he _could_ have), she actually laughs at half of what he says when he’s actively trying to be funny (only his brother usually does, Cersei keeps on saying his humor sucks) and she doesn’t seem fazed nor to care about _where_ they’re doing this or how much money he has.

Damn. He wants to hang out with her some more, but — it’s not like he’s ever got this far with anyone.

And — she should probably know about, well, _about_.

“What if I told you,” he says as she puts away her notebook with her own copy of their research, “that there’s a shark on the premises?”

To her credit, her mouth drops open, then closes, then she shakes her head.

“Excuse me, did you just say a _shark_? In _here_?”

“Well, not _here_ , of course, it’s in the pool.”

“ _In the pool_.”

“There,” he points, opening the window and gesturing at the covered pool in the distance.

“Wow,” Brienne says, “that’s _red_. And there’s a _shark_ in there?”

“Yes,” he answers. “It’s my father’s, well, technically it was his wedding present for my mother, and she’s been here for years.”

“Holy _shit_ ,” she whispers, and he’s never heard her swear before. “Okay, two things. First, I’m not buying it until I see it. Second, no offense, but you rich people are _weird_.”

“Can’t disagree,” he says, raising his hands in surrender. He _knows_ it’s weird. Hell, he knows _they’_ re weird, and not just because of the shark. “But wait, did you just say you _want_ to see her?”

“Lannister, I can’t even believe I’m having this conversation, but if you _really_ have a shark in here of course I want to see it.”

Oh.

 _Oh_.

She’s not writing him off, for some miracle, so he nods and says they can go now, and she follows him out of the room and into the garden, towards the pool.

“Do I even want to know how big this entire property is?”

“What if I tell you I couldn’t answer that question?”

She shakes her head all over again. “ _Weird_ ,” she says, “but fine. Let’s go see this mythical shark.” She’s smiling slightly, and it doesn’t look like she’s making _outright_ fun of the situation, which is a lot better than he’s ever gotten from anyone else. He reaches the pool, takes his personal key to it and opens the door.

Brienne makes a face as she walks in. “ _Seriously_? Please don’t tell me it’s real gold on the ceiling.”

“Yeah, that’s… tacky, I guess, but it is. Sorry to shatter your fantasies about it being fake.”

“… I don’t know if _weird_ covers it, but fine. Now what about — holy _hell_ , that’s a large pool.”

“I think it was the minimum to be allowed to keep her legally,” Jaime says, moving closer to the edge. A moment later, a white fin shows up on the other side of it.

“Holy _shit_ ,” Brienne says again, “that’s — oh my, that’s —”

“Told you I wasn’t lying, Tarth,” he grins as he stands up and opens the nearby fridge, which is always stocked with fish. He grabs the first one available, then he kneels down next to the edge again and Meg immediately raises her head from the water. He smiles at the sight on reflex, and lets the fish fall into her mouth before she disappears underwater again.

“Oh my God,” Brienne says, dropping to her knees next to him, “that was — that was _really_ a shark, I just — and she just comes up to you like _that_?”

“Well, if Meg likes me I won’t go around complaining.”

“Wait, her name is _Meg_?”

Jaime shrugs. “My mom’s favorite book was _Pretty Women_ ,” he says, and bursts out laughing the moment Brienne’s face turns into a grimace.

“ _Seriously_? It sucks,” Brienne states.

“Believe me, I agree, but it was _her_ shark first.”

“Fair,” Brienne nods. “Wow. I can’t believe you have a _shark_.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t think I was bullshitting you,” he mutters.

“Wait, why would I? Think you were bullshitting me, anyway.”

He shrugs. “Most people I told that too thought I was lying and it’s not like Cersei ever backed me up on that.”

“Why wouldn’t she, if —”

“Well, Meg doesn’t really like her that much,” Jaime says. “So — you get it.”

“Given that I have PE with your sister,” Brienne replies, “I can imagine. You know, she spends her time trying to make people feel like shit about _anything_ and when we got paired together I was terrified you’d be the same, but — you actually _aren’t_? All the contrary, for that matter. You’re, uh, you’re great, actually.”

“What, really?”

“What can I say, you’re — really not like her at all, never mind that you haven’t decided to treat me like a joke the moment we got paired up,” she says, sounding almost shy. “And it’s shitty of her that she’d make people think you were lying, for that matter.”

He feels like he _should_ defend her.

Too bad he has no arguments to do it and it’s nice that someone’s taking his side, so he doesn’t, and it feels more liberating than it _should_.

“Thanks,” he says, kind of lamely, but he has nothing better to offer.

“If anything,” Brienne goes on, “it shows your shark has more taste than half of our school.”

He bursts out laughing at that, unable not to. “Excuse me?”

“If she likes _you_ and not _her_ , well, she does have good taste.”

Jaime shakes his head, and then he thinks, _why not_?

“Do you want to see if she likes _you_?”

“… What?”

“Get over here,” he says, opening the fridge again. She does, cautiously. “Come on, take some fish.”

“Just — just like _that_?”

“Yeah. Listen, she’s really — you _know_ if she doesn’t like you. If it’s the case, I’ll just take it.”

Something in his stare must have convinced her because she nods and takes another fish before he slams the door closed and motions for her to kneel on the pool’s side.

A moment later, the fin swims towards them.

“She’s smelling it,” Jaime says. “Hey, don’t sweat it. Sharks don’t like humans anyway.”

“You mean, as _food_?”

He nods. “Apparently we taste like shit and they just take a bite and leave unless they’re being extra bothered. Hey, here she is.”

Meg immediately shows up, without making a sound. Brienne throws the fish into the pool and Meg catches it, munching on it, and she doesn’t move.

“Are you _sure_ about that?”

“I am. And she’s not doing anything, if you want to touch her you can try now.”

Brienne swallows visibly and does, her fingertips brushing over Meg’s head.

 _Nothing_ happens — the shark lets her, finishes munching on her food and swims on forward.

“She likes you,” he says, trying to not sound too delighted, but it’s the first time in _years_ he actually gets to share _this_ with someone and listen, it’s cool, all right?

“I’m — I feel like I might faint,” she says, “but… it was… it was great,” she breathes. “And wait, how do you know the thing about humans tasting… not good?”

He clears his throat. “It’s — sharks are _cool_ , all right? I’ve read up about them.”

“Really,” she says. “Well, I know absolutely nothing about sharks, anything else I might want to learn?”

 _What,_ has she seriously asked?

“Some of them can be pregnant for three years and some. Not white ones, though.”

“ _What_? Who even wants to be pregnant that long?”

“Beats me,” he agrees. “And they’re also the fish with the largest brain.”

“Woah, really?”

“Yeah. They’re smarter than most people think,” he says.

“Well, yours does look very smart to me,” Brienne states. “So, you come over here a lot?”

“The gold could be… better,” he admits. “But yes. I mean, my sister’s what she is, my father’s what he is and my brother isn’t even ten and has signed up for _any_ extra thing he can do in school so he doesn’t have to be here, so… she’s kind of better company,” he admits. “And it’s quieter.”

She nods, looking like she understand what he means.

“I see,” she says. “Well, it’s nice. Not counting the gold. The gold is tacky. Thanks for showing me,” she goes on, her voice going lower. “I mean, I don’t usually get invited anywhere, not even for school projects.”

“I never said you can’t come again,” he blurts before he can even think about that offer.

She looks _extremely_ surprised at that. “Wait, what? Seriously?”

“Why not?”

“It’s just, not counting a friend from elementary school that I see on the weekends… no one really invites me to hang out?”

Wait, _what_?

“Seriously?”

“Jaime, have you _looked_ at me lately?”

“ _Brienne_ , have you met my brother?”

“I — I did? Yesterday?”

“Well, both my father and my sister barely even look at him and according to _me_ he’s the smartest person I know and who gives a shit about his height, do you think I give a fuck about your looks? Whatever that even means?”

“… _Whatever that even means?_ ”

“Judging people for that is stupid and I mean, so some people don’t like you, but I don’t know, some people don’t like green eyes and if they don’t then they’d think _I_ wasn’t attractive or whatever, so if anyone doesn’t hang out with you because of _that_ they’re just stupid. Also, _my_ shark likes you and she usually doesn’t like most people.”

Her eyes light up when her mouth’s corners curl upwards. “Okay then,” she says, smiling tentatively.

Hell. She has a really nice smile, he thinks.

He thinks he’s going to like having her around.

——

“You’re doing _what_?”

Of _course_ Cersei isn’t too hyped when he tells her he _is_ going to have Brienne over even after the assignment is graded.

“I’m inviting her over,” he says. “And I wasn’t asking for permission, I was just informing you in case you run into each other.”

“You _can’t_ —”

“You have your own room and you’ve invited _your_ girlfriends over for years, excuse me if I want to invite _one_.”

“That’s not — what do you even see in _that_ anyway? I have PE with her and she’s a total bore.”

“Well,” Jaime grins, “Meg likes her.”

“That beast does _what_?”

“Like her. I mean, she fed it once and she was lovely about it. Same as she is with _me_.”

Cersei scoffs — of course Meg _never_ accepted any food from _her_.

“As if it means _anything_ —”

“It means that his friend is completely crazy but that shark still has some taste,” Tyrion says from his spot where he’s perched on Jaime’s bed, reading something that looks way too thick for it to be age appropriate.

“ _What_?”

“If _I_ was a shark I wouldn’t want food from _you_ ,” Tyrion goes on. “But just to get near that thing you need to be out of your mind, so she obviously is completely crazy, but you can both have your shark, I’ll be fine with a cat whenever I can get one.”

“You will do no such thing,” Cersei tells him, ignoring Tyrion, _as usual_.

“I will do whatever the hell I want,” Jaime quips back, “and at most we can just go hang out in the pool, how about _that_?”

Cersei doesn’t even answer and slams the door behind her.

“Jaime,” Tyrion says a moment later, “I’m impressed.”

“… How are you _impressed_?”

“This is the first time you stand up to her to the point where she gives up on it. You _really_ like her or what?”

“What if I do?” He shrugs. “I mean, she’s nice, she likes the same books as I do, when I told her about Meg she didn’t freak out, she definitely isn’t the kind of person who only cares about how much money I have and — well, she doesn’t — she’s cool, okay?”

Tyrion _stares_ at him over his book. “Yeah, okay, you do. Congratulations.”

“On _what_?”

Tyrion doesn’t reply any further and Jaime goes back to his shark documentary before texting her that if she wants to drop by tomorrow, they can come together after school.

She says yes.

He can’t help himself from grinning as he reads it.

——

She does come the next day.

Then a couple days from then.

Then the next one.

 

***

 

“ _Where_ did you get those?” She asks him a year later, as they sit at the usual tacky table in the pool, Meg’s fin showing up in the water once in a while. He stares at the pile of marine wildlife books he has on his side of it, near some physics homework he has neglected for too long but that he’s apparently shit at — good thing Brienne’s isn’t. “I mean,” she says, thumbing through the first one, “this stuff is out of print.”

“That’d be the resident expert. I mean, uh, Mr. Tully, he’s a marine biologist who works at some aquarium in town but my father pays him to go check on Meg regularly and now they’re discussing _some way_ to get her to have children.”

“Wait, _more_ sharks?”

“The illustrious father said he doesn’t want her lineage to _die out_ , what do I even know? Anyway, he _does_ know I want to do that, too. I mean, marine biology. He also knows my father doesn’t really approve but he tends to not give a damn, so. He brings them over and takes them back when I’m finished with them.”

Honestly, he’s just relieved _someone_ is taking him seriously when it comes to what he’d like to do with his life.

“That’s cool though,” she says. “And you need to revise the first law of thermodynamics, _that_ is why it’s not working out.”

He glances at his wrong exercises. “… Well, _fuck_ , you’re right. I’ll get the hang of it at some point.”

“Hey, you have been studying your ass off for those A-levels, you _will_.”

“At least someone other than Tyrion thinks that,” he sighs.

“What, is your sister being an ass _again_?”

“Told you, _one_ person is supporting of my plans not counting the resident fish expert,” he sighs. He glances at the border of the pool, where Meg has currently stopped for a moment, looking at the both of them before swimming away.

“Hey,” she says, “if that’s what you want then you should do it. Never mind that I mean, I can think of worse things to do than wanting to study sharks and trying to restore their reputation.”

Thing is — she’s wholly serious about it, differently from just about anyone else who has to give him advice about that.

“Good to know _three_ people actually dig that idea.”

“Well, help out the fish expert with the whole baby sharks thing at this point, if he lets you.”

… That is a fair point, and he hadn’t dared ask, but he _could,_ couldn’t he? At worst he gets told no.

“I might,” he says, and they go back to their homework in companionable silence, but sometimes he glances at her and at how her hair seems to _not_ stay braided, and he thinks about how an hour ago she told him about that asshole from her class who asked her out on a bet, and he can’t help thinking that he _really_ was a damned idiot.

——

“You want me to do _what_?”

“Tyrion is refusing to help me out with the damned names, she’s had _eight_ baby sharks, my father is enlarging the pool or having another one built nearby, I don’t even know, but according to him they could be number one, two and so on. And I mean, I _could_ do it on my own, but you’ve fed her _almost_ as much fish as I did, why the hell not?”

Brienne blinks at him, then at the pool, in which you can see a whole lot of smaller fins circling Meg’s.

“ _Eight_ of them. And how long has she been pregnant, _again_?”

“One year and a half,” Jaime replies proudly, “all within time.”

“… Christ. Okay. And, like, I can’t believe — those baby sharks, are they males or females?”

“Oh, two females and six males.”

“Right. And did you pick some already?”

“No, I figured I’d ask you first.” Honestly, she’s been here for years and she’s encouraged him to actually go ask Tully if he could be involved in the process _somehow_ and she’s been nothing but supportive of his life choices since that history assignment, he had figured he would wait for her.

She looks — weirdly pleased?

“Well, _okay_ , I suppose.” She kneels down next to the pool’s edge, watching the fins go by. “I mean, if you have six of them and you don’t name one of them Bruce you _might_ be wasting chances here.”

He can’t help it — he lets out a relieved laugh. “You’re a nerd, but fair,” he says, “hopefully that one’s going to be a vegetarian. Here, have pictures.”

He hands her a stack of pictures he has of the smaller sharks and they proceed to decide which one that looks more like a _Bruce_ , then she proposes Lancelot for _obvious_ reasons, he counters that then they should have a Galahad, too, , and by the time they got the girl sharks he thinks that maybe he _could_ go for the real reason why he asked her here _other_ than naming the sharks.

Except that —

“ _Seriously_?”

… Of _course_ Cersei had to walk in here for the first time in years just on the day he plans on fessing up to her.

“Seriously _what_?” He replies, standing up, thankful that he’s on the other side of the pool.

“You’re — _naming sharks_?”

“Well, who else is going to do it?” He quips back. “Sure, I’m naming sharks same as I’m hanging out with _her_ , so what?”

 _Actually I had other plans, but never mind_ that _,_ he thinks bitterly.

“Yes, and what are _these_?”

“Wait, have you gone through my trash?” He raises his voice at that, but she _must_ have, if she’s holding up pieces of paper where he had printed out a few curricula from different universities before deciding where to apply and then threw out after he got acceptance from his preferred one.

“And what if I did?”

“Well, it’s _my_ damned trash, but it seems like I’m going to Plymouth after all.”

“To study _fish_?”

“Sharks, for that matter. Why, you’ve got a problem?”

“Why, _yes_! It’s useless, you have a place ready in PR with me, why the hell would you waste time after fish out of everything?”

Brienne looks this close to tell her to fuck off as she stalks towards the both of them.

Except that a moment later Meg swims towards the pool’s edge. _Quickly_.

“Uh,” Brienne says, “didn’t you tell me sometime that white sharks can jump, like, ten meters in the air if they want to catch prey?”

“They _can_ ,” Jaime confirms as Cersei takes a step forward and Meg follows her.

“Jaime, what is _she_ doing?”

“Whatever she wants, as usual,” Jaime confirms. “By the way, what she’s doing right now? Means she’s pissed off. If I were you I’d leave.”

“This is ridiculous,” Cersei says, walking past — and getting Meg _always_ following her.

“You know,” Brienne says, “if even the shark thinks you should mind your own business, maybe you should consider it.”

“ _I_ should?”

“Well, she never was threatening to _me_ ,” she says, and wait, does she sound slightly _smug_ , and a moment later Cersei storms on her heels and goes back to the exit, _good_.

For a moment, neither of them says anything.

Then Meg disappears under the water, _again_.

Jaime is about to thank her before realizing it’d sound fucking ridiculous. “You know,” he says, “I have a feeling that _she_ has a feeling for a lot of things.”

“Such as?” Brienne replies.

“Well, she’s hated Cersei since the first time they were introduced, she doesn’t hate you and she _likes_ me. And she loves her fish expert. Maybe she’s trying to tell me something.”

“Really,” Brienne says. “As in?”

“I don’t know, maybe that I should have kissed you long before asking you to pick damned baby names for Meg’s descendants?”

She stares at him with those lovely blue eyes of hers, and then —

“I was about to say you should name one of them after your mother because it was _her_ shark after all, and then the other could be another Meg just to keep the family name going because it kind of suits her, but if you also want my opinion about whether we should kiss, maybe I agree with you.”

“Fuck that,” Jaime says, “you’re totally picking any kind of baby names from now on, you’re _way_ better at it than I am.”

Her mouth is on his a moment later, her tongue immediately meeting his as they drop sitting on the ground with her arm around his waist, and he can hear the soft sound of sharks swimming behind him and he thinks that yes, he really couldn’t have picked a better place to do this.

Not at all.

 

_Epilogue_

 

It’s not even been two hours and Tyrion thinks he’s going to get drunk _out of his fucking mind_ before seconds are served, never mind the damned cake.

Now, let’s get it out of the way. Tyrion loves his brother. _Dearly_. Absolutely. And he sure as hell likes his former best friend slash girlfriend slash wife (since two hours) way more than he will ever like his sister or his father. So, nothing against them.

 _But_ , he never quite got what the _hell_ did Jaime find in that fucking shark, nor why Brienne — who is a _sane_ person most of the time — thinks his thing for _Meg_ is adorable.

Anyway: they’re having the wedding reception _in the damned pool_ which for the occasion has been turned into a full sort-of-catering-area. Of course they put some kind of guardrail against the pool in case some idiots try to dive inside when the thing — which is now _four times_ as large, shit, Tyrion doesn’t want to know the amount of wasted money his father pours into his pet sharks — there are some _nine_ fucking sharks.

Good grief.

At least he’s been assured the cake isn’t shark themed.

That said, Jaime said he could invite a few people since in between him and Brienne it’s not like they have _this many_ friends and they wanted to keep this small, so he invited Bronn, of course, and at that point he didn’t fucking know who else but he did want to show up with at least _two_ people.

He was probably drunk when he decided to ask his personal cat dealer.

Rewind: Tyrion is a normal, sane person. Which is why the moment he left the family house, he went and got himself some cats, like _any normal human being_ would go for, rather than fucking sharks. And since he’s a _decent_ person or so he likes to think, he got them at a cat shelter to which he regularly donates.

To the point where he’s at first name basis with the owner. The guy’s named Jon Connington, he runs the place with only donations, he’s fairly good at handling the aforementioned cats and matched him up with five of them — three were kittens, two were strays — that have gotten along with him and each other perfectly. So Tyrion had thought hey, let’s invite him to the wedding, he is a nice, reasonable person and Bronn isn’t half of the time, so hey, can’t be a bad idea, right?

Except that the guy ended up sitting at the same table as Brynden Tully, as in, the guy who’s checked those sharks over since the day they were born and that _of course_ Jaime invited to the wedding (they’re about to start working together or _something_ , he doesn’t even want to know), and now they hit off and Tyrion’s pretty sure they’re going to make out like there’s no tomorrow before the day is done.

And they’re discussing the sharks.

Of course they are.

“I hate everything,” he says as he glances at Jaime and Brienne making honestly tooth-rotting eyes at each other in the nearby table as he takes his drink from the bar.

“Why? It’s such a nice wedding!”

Wait, who —

Oh. That redhead friend of Brienne’s — what was her name?

“Oh, sorry for having barged in. I’m Sansa, Sansa Stark,” she says, grinning and extending her hand.

Tyrion, who usually doesn’t talk to pretty girls like _that_ without awkwardness on their side, immediately reciprocates.

“Tyrion Lannister, as you probably knew already. And I mean, it’s not that I hate it _really_ , but — between you and me, the sharks thing is just weird.”

“Oh. _That_ ,” she says. “Well, in between the two of us, it kind of _is_ a bit weird. I mean, when Brienne told me that her boyfriend had _pet sharks_ I thought it was bonkers, and the cute names are kind of… well, _strange_ , but hey, if they’re happy, why not? I mean, I’ve been to a few weddings and this is the best yet.”

“Not counting the shark-related vows?”

“Eh, always been more of a cat person myself not counting the family dogs which are a whole other matter, but hey, they’re adorable, aren’t they?”

“… Cat person, you said?” He asks, wondering what the hell he’s even doing here. He doesn’t usually do _this_ , but she’s nice and she hasn’t looked at him like something was wrong with him all along and maybe —

“Why, you’re one as well?” She grins, looking absolutely delighted of it.

“I’ve got five of them,” he says.

“ _Really_?” She sounds excited about it — what, really? “I’ve got two, along with Lady — that’d be my old dog — but what, five? That sounds adorable. Do you happen to have pictures? Unless I’m snooping, sorry, I just _really_ get excited over —”

“Oh,” he says, “don’t fret, I do, too. And case is, I do.”

He has _an entire Instagram_ for the cats, to be honest, but maybe it’s too soon to disclose that information. He grabs his phone and searches through his folders, handing to her the newest ones.

“That one’s Edward Rochester,” he says. “Yes, I named him after _that_ guy because he doesn’t have a paw, he was a stray, but at least he doesn’t _eat people_ , on principle.”

Sansa’s smirk goes slightly wider as she takes out her phone and shows him her background, which is… the aforementioned dog, he supposes, a fairly large husky, posing next to an adorable, gray Persian kitten. “What if I told you she’s named Jane Eyre?”

She’s openly grinning as she looks back down at him.

“Huh,” he says, slowly. “What if I said that maybe after this shark wedding madness is done we could totally see what happens if they meet? I swear _mine_ is very well behaved.”

“I think,” she says, “that we should totally exchange numbers.”

A moment later, as they’re doing it, he gets a text. From Jaime.

_See that my shark wedding was useful for you, too?_

Tyrion doesn’t even bother answering and decides that maybe, _maybe_ , he’s not completely wrong, for once.

That fucking shark is still the most idiotic idea his father’s ever had, though, and no one convinces him of the contrary.

And he’s going to be extremely clear about it when it’s time for the best man’s speech.

 

 

End.


End file.
